Chapter 3

Liam found me by the tanks, his smirk wider than before.

"Quite the show, Ethan. Giving up your office? Chloe told me you were sentimental."

He leaned against a pallet of malt, oozing false confidence.

"She' s got big plans for me, you know. Fast track. Says the company needs new blood, someone who understands the 'gram."

I just looked at him.

"You look tired, old man. All those years... must be exhausting."

He was trying to get a rise out of me, but the hurt from Chloe' s betrayal was a heavy blanket, smothering other emotions.

Chloe appeared then, her smile strained when she saw us.

Liam immediately straightened, his expression shifting to one of earnest concern.

"Oh, Chloe, I was just checking on Ethan. He seemed a bit overwhelmed."

She barely glanced at me. "Ethan' s always overwhelmed when he' s not brewing."

Her dismissal was casual, practiced.

"Liam, darling, are you feeling alright? You mentioned a migraine earlier."

Liam clutched his forehead dramatically. "It' s just the stress, Chloe. Wanting to do my best for you, for Artisan Ales."

"You poor thing," she cooed, placing a hand on his arm. "Let' s get you some water. Ethan, you should mingle. Try not to look so glum, it' s bad for the brand."

My quiet withdrawal, my years of exhaustion, meant nothing.

His faked migraine, everything.

Later, after most guests had left, Chloe found me in the office I' d just symbolically given away.

She tossed a small, cheap-looking box onto the desk.

"Here. A little something. Since you were so generous earlier."

I opened it. A watch. A blatant, flimsy knock-off of the expensive Swiss brand she' d bought for Liam last week, "for making such a good first impression on the investors."

The symbolism wasn't lost on me.

This cheap imitation was what I was worth to her now.

"Thanks," I said, my voice flat.

"Don' t be like this, Ethan," she sighed, annoyance lacing her tone. "It was a business decision. Liam is good for the company."

"And our marriage? Was that a business decision too?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Don' t be dramatic. We' ll talk later. I need to make sure Liam gets home okay. His migraine is really acting up."

She left.

The cheap watch ticked loudly in the silence.

I picked up my phone.

My fingers hesitated, then dialed Maya' s number at Summit Brews.

She' d approached me a few months ago, impressed by my IPA at a festival.

"If you ever want a place where your craft is truly valued, Ethan, call me."